


And Then There Was Blood

by InquisitorsFancyHats



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: DA2 companions replace DAI companions, Gen, Hawke as Inquisitor AU, Mature rating for language and fight scenes, Red Hawke, Relationships mentioned but no focus, with the exception of Cassandra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InquisitorsFancyHats/pseuds/InquisitorsFancyHats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke went to Haven as a representative and came out as the Herald of Andraste. And now the task of fixing everything falls, once again, into Hawke's lap, whether Thedas is ready to accept her or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a stab at the Hawke-becomes-Inquisitor AU. This fic will be mostly one-shots from different parts in the game and not one continuous story. This Hawke is also an aggressive red Hawke, so if that's not your jam, this fic might not be for you.

Dinner was awkward. Dinner was awful.

Valina Hawke pushed the mound of mashed potatoes around with her spoon and stared at a point a little to the left of Sebastian’s head. The others were equally silent, trying their best to not make eye contact with each other. 

Anders opened his mouth. 

“No,” half a dozen voices chorused. The mage scowled and stabbed at the pile of carrots on his plate. The two scouts that had been charged with serving them exchanged glances and ducked out of the room to the main hall of the Chantry. 

Varric cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad we’re all back together again. Just like Kirkwall.”

“This is nothing like Kirkwall,” Isabela replied, leaning back in her chair and propping her feet up on the table. Fenris moved his drink out of the way. “Doesn’t smell like burning garbage, for one.”

Merrill scratched at her cheek. “Aveline’s not in charge, either. She should be.”

“Thank you, Merrill.” The guardswoman tossed a hunk of meat to Serah Scratchy, who had been quietly waiting for table scraps. The mabari gobbled it down loudly, licking the floor just to make sure he’d gotten it all. He was probably the only one that was enjoying himself at Haven. 

They lapsed back into silence. The group chewed, occasionally asked for someone to pass the pitcher of wine, and proceeded to ignore each other. Five years ago, they would have busted out a game of diamondback or started a bawdy version of truth or dare. But times were different, they were different, and this wasn’t the Hanged Man. It was Haven, their group had collapsed in on itself, and the world was on the verge of being overrun with demons.

And Hawke now had a glowing hand. 

Well, all the weird shit did tend to happen to them. 

“Any luck with the Breach?” Hawke finally made to break the tension. She wasn’t a mage herself, and so had left the three mages to poke around and figure out what they could. 

Bethany shook her head. “Nothing yet, but we’re going down there tomorrow.” Merrill and Anders nodded in agreement. “We think that dumping more magic into it might work to amplify your mark and be enough to close it.”

Fenris scowled and drummed his fingers loudly on the wooden table. “Yes, let’s add more magic. We can take a drink for every extra demon that comes pouring out of the sky.” 

“I think we would all die,” Sebastian added. “Wouldn’t draining the magic make the Breach smaller and easier to manage? Less fuel for the fire, so to speak.” 

“We are NOT bringing the Templars into this! Having Cullen down the hall from me is bad enough,” Anders straightened up in his seat, the look on his face making it clear that he was ready to fight about this. 

Fenris pulled his lips back in a snarl. “Well maybe the Templars wouldn’t be so agitated if they weren’t getting constantly attacked out on the roads-”

“Enough!” Hawke shouted, slamming her palms on the table top. They had the argument in some form almost every day, be it at the dinner table or out in the middle of the Hinterlands. And it would probably stay that way until someone “accidentally” got pushed off a cliff. “If you’re going to fight about this, take it outside and settle it.” 

An uneasy silence fell, with the others either glaring daggers or decidedly not making eye contact.

“…Three gold on Broody.”

“Varric!” Hawke snapped, running a hand through her hair. She was going to go grey by the end of the year at this rate. Or drop dead of stress. “You’re not helping. None of you are.” Tensions had all but exploded since they had all reunited in Haven. Rebuilding the team had been a constant struggle, and every new addition had been a fight. Somebody didn’t want to see someone else. So-and-so was an asshole. There had been a lot of bribery involved to get anything done as a group. 

Hawke could still remember Seeker Cassandra’s face when she’d brought up bringing in her own contacts. “Varric is bad enough. And your old… associates are not what this Inquisition needs. We need trained soldiers, not the collection of street fighters you assembled.” 

Part of Hawke had been quite insulted by that, but there was a truth to it. Sure, Aveline was perhaps the only one who had any “professional” training, though Anders and Bethany were Wardens and Merrill trained as a Keeper. But really, who was ready to take on hordes of demons from the sky? 

Hawke leaned back in her chair as Fenris abruptly stormed off, grabbing his greatsword from the rack on the wall. The “no weapons at the table” rule they’d started in Kirkwall had been a literal lifesaver in Haven. Even regular cutlery had proved almost lethal during their dinnertime disagreements. 

“Make sure some soldiers go with you tomorrow,” Hawke finally said, pushing her plate of half-eaten food away from her. They’d caught both angry Templars and angry mages in the hills surrounding Haven, and the last thing they needed was someone getting picked off. “They can watch your backs while you’re doing your… Fade stuff.” Magic terminology was not Hawke’s strong point, despite growing up with two mages. And this was all new territory in the magic field, so the old phrases probably didn’t really cut it. 

Eventually, the rest of the group made their way from the table. Even if they were the core of the Inquisition, they were still a small enough organization that they had to rotate through the more menial duties. Guard duty, scouting missions, and even sorting through the dozens of letters that were sent to the Inquisition all ended up on their plates. (And if Hawke ever met Comte Lubillen face-to-face, they were going to have a fistfight solely over the fact that the man used the word “literally” in almost every sentence.)

The door swung shut behind Varric and Hawke stared sullenly at the wall hanging of Andraste standing dramatically in front of a crowd. The brand on her hand still burned, but by now it had faded to a buzzing on the edge of her awareness. It was an annoyance more than a bother. Even through the thick stone walls, Hawke could hear an argument break out between one of the Chantry sisters and a soldier over the distribution of their dwindling healing potion supply. 

Scratchy whined quietly and wiggled his head into Hawke’s lap. She shifted to scratch at his ears, ignoring the small pool of drool that was forming on her leg. “I should have stayed in Kirkwall,” she muttered. Angry, paranoid Templars were almost more preferable than being in charge of stopping the apocalypse. At least in Kirkwall there hadn’t really been any expectations to live up to. 

“…Pardon me, Herald.” One of the Chantry sisters had stuck her head in when Hawke hadn’t been paying attention. “Ambassador Montilyet asked for you in her office. There’s a Comte Lubillen here.” 

Hawke’s frustrated scream was loud enough to scatter the pigeons roosting in the Chantry’s rafters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter technically takes place before chapter 1, whoops. I'm writing as the ideas come, so this fic may not be 100% chronological going forward.   
> Also RedHawke comes out full force in this chapter, so if you're not into aggressive Hawke (and I mean yelling, physical fights, and threats, not just Hawke being rude), this fic is not for you.

“No. Absolutely not.” Cassandra folded her arms over her chest and paced up and down the war table as she scowled. 

Hawke watched her, one eyebrow raised. “You said we needed more people. I know people.”

Cassandra shook her head. “The people you know are not the ones we need. The Chantry is already out to close us down, the last thing we need is to bring even more unwanted attention down on our heads.”

“Well, you took Varric so the standards here are pretty low.” At the Seeker’s look, Hawke held up a hand in surrender. 

Cassandra let out an angry noise. Hawke bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from starting another argument. Mark or not, she’d be back in the dungeons if she kept antagonizing the Seeker. 

Leliana and Josephine watched silently, eyes darting back and forth between the two other women as they argued. “If I may?” Josephine started, stepping up to the table. When she wasn’t stopped, she continued. “We’re not in a position to play it safe. The Breach is a very real threat and we don’t know how much time we have. A political catastrophe is more manageable than a demonic one.” 

The reassurance didn’t seem to completely sway Cassandra, but she nodded in consent anyway. 

Hawke sighed loudly and ruffled her hair. That was one less battle she was going to have to deal with now. “I’ll be honest, I’m not completely sure where the others are. The Templars started sabotaging my communications lines before they turned on me.” She still couldn’t believe that. After all the grief she’d gone through to keep their order together, that was how they repaid her. Not to mention Cullen was still jumpy and nervous around her. The betrayal had been brewing right under his nose and he hadn’t managed to catch wind of it. (And they expected her to be okay with him running the Inquisition’s soldiers. As if she was going to run the risk of him missing another mutiny. She made a note to make a stink about getting a new commander.)

“I may be able to help with that.” Leliana folded her arms. “Between my network and Varric’s contacts, we should be able to track everyone down. Whether they come or not is something else entirely.”

As it was, a couple of them were already at Haven. Varric, of course, had come from Kirkwall with Cassandra. Bethany had gotten leave from the Wardens to travel with her sister to the Conclave. Sebastian was the only one who she’d had secure contact with, and he had shown up at her door before she’d even been able to actually ask him to come. 

Aveline was still back in Kirkwall, Hawke knew for sure. She’d refused to leave, insisting that the city was her responsibility and if the Viscount was leaving, then someone needed to stay behind. That was true, Hawke supposed. Maybe now, with the giant hole in the sky, the guard captain would be more interested in joining them.

The rest were a bit trickier. Hawke had vague ideas, but not a set location. Merrill had stayed in the Free Marches, trying to contact the Dalish wandering there and keeping them out of the Mage/Templar crossfire. Fenris’s last letter had come from western Nevarra, where he was having the time of his life wreaking havoc along the Tevinter slavers. Isabela, now with her own boat and crew, had gone back to the sea. Tracking them down would take time. So they sent out letters and waited. 

And then Anders showed up.

There was a ruckus at the front gates and Hawke barreled her way through the crowd, elbowing someone in the side when they didn’t move fast enough. Cullen was shouting something, and Hawke could vaguely make out someone yelling back. The voice was familiar, but Hawke couldn’t put a finger on exactly who.

“YOU!” Hawke screeched when she finally caught sight of Anders, looking as scraggly and worn as he always had. She swore so colorfully that one of the Chantry mothers clutched at her chest and murmured a prayer. “You’re dead!” Hawke continued, storming over and knocking the mage’s staff out of her way when he held it up to block her. “I killed you, right in the street!” Valina was livid, her lips pulled back in a snarl. 

Anders matched her expression, shoving his face so close their noses almost touched. “I think you forgot, Viscount, that I’m a healer.” His eyes narrowed and the distaste was tangible. “You think a little knife is going to finish me off?”

Hawke faltered for a second, and then her fury came roaring back. She grabbed the mage’s coat by the collar and bodily lifted him, slamming him against the stone wall. “You think this is some kind of joke? Just showing up like you’d be welcomed?!” 

“I’m here because you’re going to go and get people killed again!”

“Oh, I’M going to get people killed?” Hawke’s voice rose even above the crowd. “That’s rich, coming from you-!”

Someone grabbed her shoulder and Hawke nearly swung out at them before she realized it was Bethany pulling her off. “Sister, please, put him down!” 

Bethany’s grip tightened when her sister didn’t immediately respond. Valina worked her jaw angrily, then abruptly let go, letting Anders stumble back to his feet. 

“I killed you,” she repeated, as if that would somehow make him drop dead at her feet. Hawke’s gaze darted around, skirting over the guards that all had their weapons drawn, to land on Cullen. She’d pushed him out of the way at some point, and now he was clearly waiting for her order. 

Hawke jabbed a finger at him. “You! Handle this!” she snapped. She couldn’t deal with this. There was too much on her plate for her to juggle having a ex-dead, ex-friend show up on her doorstep. “I have to close the giant hole in the sky!” Hawke gestured wildly at the Breach.

Anders pushed one of the advancing soldiers off of him. “Who do you think knows the most about a gaping hole in the Veil? Maybe a spirit?” His tone was challenging- he clearly knew the benefits of bringing a spirit into the Inquisition far outweighed Hawke’s own anger over the apostate’s reappearance.

“He’s an abomination!” screamed someone from the crowd and the debate broke out anew. Likely it would have raged until sunset, given that Hawke was trapped in her own spiral on anger and indecision. Anders (and Justice) would have plenty of insights to the Fade, and Anders was a powerful mage, as much as Hawke wanted to ignore that fact. 

Bethany’s grip on her sister’s arm tightened. “Sister, you need to say something,” she whispered, staring at something over Hawke’s shoulder. “We’re going to have another riot.”

Hawke cursed and squeezed her eyes shut. Disagreements in the group were one thing, but now she had the fate of hundreds of people to consider. Settling things with a fistfight or a shouting match just wasn’t an option for her anymore. And she hated it. 

Shouting to get everyone to calm down wouldn’t work, so Hawke leaned over, grabbed the side of Seggrit’s table, and flipped it over. The resulting crashing of weapons and armor startled most of the crowd into silence. Seggrit made a noise of protest. Hawke ignored him. 

The mass of faces turned to her and Hawke felt her face flush at the attention. She considered getting back in the habit of wearing a helmet. It added to the intimidation, too. She straightened up, pointing a finger at Anders. “Fine! Stay! But you’re on your own, Anders. I’m not letting you use my status as a shield anymore.” Anders narrowed his eyes, but waved her off before pushing his way through the crowd. 

Hawke watched him go, then turned and grabbed the closest Inquisition soldier. “Get Varric and Sebastian to the war room. And don’t let them out.” The soldier nodded and bolted off, and Hawke rubbed the side of her face angrily. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Bethany asked, quiet enough that only her sister could hear. They both knew the news of Anders being alive and being at Haven would go poorly. And loudly. 

“No,” Hawke sighed, watching as Seggrit began reassembling his store. "I started this fight, so I'll handle it." Didn't mean she'd handle it gracefully, though.


End file.
